The Foul Mouth and the Troubled Boomworm (The King Henry Tapes)

by Raley, Richard

  Oh damn . . . way too emotional for me. I made a joke to divert all the feeling rising up, “Hey, watch the grinding, or this is going to get uncomfortable.”

  She laughed into my shoulder, but squeezed tighter yet again. “Of course I trust you.”

  Shovelful after shovelful, the hole filled up around us. Every twenty shovels or so, Peter would stop, double-check with Ronnie that we were fine, then order Estefan and Jason to keep it up.

  Before long, San Francisco or not, all four sweated. Not Val and me. Six feet deep . . . all dirt is cold.

  Three guys throwing dirt on us. Hot ass summer. Yet, Valentine Ward was in my arms again. I felt as good as I had . . . shit. I couldn’t think back on a time I’d felt this good recently. Annie B in my bed? Nah. That’d been exciting, naughty, and fuck me could that woman do some tricks . . . but good? I’d been scared for my life the whole time we were naked. That’s part of why it was such wonderful sex.

  Not good.

  Back before that then?

  All the way to Ceinwyn going to bat for me? Giving me some good advice and helping me start my shop? That far? Two years almost?

  I’m finding Christmas Ward, I’m bringing Val back safe, and if she runs I’m chasing her to the ends of the earth, I thought.

  Ends of the Earth . . .

  Just you wait, fucktard, just you wait.

  Val and I couldn’t have moved apart if we’d wanted to near the end. Dirt’s some heavy stuff. Once the drop wasn’t as bad, the guys moved quicker. Less worried about hurting us, they just pushed piles over the edge and packed them in around our shoulders.

  Yup.

  This felt exactly like what Plutarch had done to me.

  The Asylum: it doesn’t have questionable teaching practices at all . . .

  “I’m going to need three or four baths after this,” Val said.

  “Can we do that together too?” I asked.

  “I’d pinch your butt right now if I could,” she teased.

  “Best to not distract me, I think.”

  I glanced up at Jason and Estefan. The sun made it hard to do without squinting. “Get back on the patio, then I’ll start pooling.”

  “How long?” Peter Ward asked them as he and Ronnie got ushered towards the house.

  “No idea,” Estefan said, “Not my Mancy type. Don’t worry though . . . King Henry, he’s a handful, but he comes through for you too.”

  “Bet you feel all warm and fuzzy,” Val teased some more.

  “This is turning into torture, stuck here as a target for every barb you can throw.”

  She shifted her head back just enough so we could be face to face. I got a quick kiss on my lips. “For luck,” she said.

  Not surprisingly, it tasted like dirt. “If we don’t come back—”

  “Don’t, King Henry! Wait . . . what do you mean? Don’t come back from—”

  The very second I pooled the smallest sliver of geo-anima I felt the connection. Something vast was at our feet.

  He’d been waiting.

  He’d been ready.

  The smallest sliver of geo-anima and Meteyos grabbed onto us and ripped us down into the earth.

  [CLICK]

  I woke up on cool rock, natural not man-made, but smoothed, like it had been polished by wear and tear for the better part of forever.

  Val’s weight was on top of me. I could feel her breath on my cheek and her heartbeat next to mine, but she seemed unconscious. Of all the times . . .

  There was no light.

  No dirt either. Under us or around us or even clinging to us as grime. I felt as clean as I had in days, maybe even weeks. Like every particle of Earth stank had been scoured away. Every inch as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

  I felt . . . good. Better than good. Awesome. Revived. A new man. Nothing hurt. Chest, head, jaw, the broken fingers Slushed to halfway working, nothing hurt. Even everyday pains seemed gone. There’s a tooth that’s been bugging me for weeks that I really should have looked at . . . but I’m fucking busy, ya know? It felt normal. Cuts on my fingers from artificing? Wrists from working anima conversions all day? The ankle I twisted a couple weeks back during my surfing trip with Pocket and the guys?

  Everything felt one-hundred percent.

  My eyes blinked, trying to dilate, trying to find anything to focus on, a piece of grey shadow, anything not black. But . . .

  No light.

  At all.

  But this wasn’t the darkness that closes in upon you.

  It felt a whole lot like the opposite, in fact. Like we were in some huge cavern, that feeling of open blackness that stretches into infinity. Sound bouncing all around, diving back and forth, back and forth like a tiger stuck in a cage, no way to escape.

  My ears twitched. Something breathed in and out nearby us, something enormous trying to be silent. Not a hunting silence, but a waiting silence. A silence that bespoke of extreme intellect. Most would call it a human intellect . . . but I’m not sure if humanity was on its usually pedestal at the top of the food chain. Not here, wherever here was.

  The first time I’d dealt with Meteyos had been in dreams. Sleeping on the dirt of a mountainside, I’d had dream after dream where we talked, received visions of . . . I don’t know, the past?

  The second time when Plutarch buried me had been an in between state of pure geo-anima, where nothing had form. It felt hard to get there. Difficult. Like I was the one making the connection. After I eventually popped out of the ground a few miles away and walked back, Plutrach told me never to do it again.

  I still hadn’t done it again. This time had been all something else doing the work. Meteyos had dragged me here. Wherever here was. I felt it. But . . . what was different this time than the last two times? How . . . shit, no way . . . I pushed Val up and to the side with my shoulder, feeling inside my geomancer’s coat with the opposite hand. Just where I left you, Shaky Stick . . .

  YES.

  My entire body froze up. My balls shriveled. My hackles rose. If I could’ve shit into my hand, I would’ve thrown it.

  INTENDED CREATION? UNINTENDED CREATION? I DO NOT KNOW.

  This wasn’t the Meteyos in my head just like before either. This was the Meteyos in the cave. Each word blasted around me, echoed. There was a point of origin, from . . . the something enormous.

  I am so out of my depth. I’d thought the Asylum lies had been wrapped around how powerful Ultras could actually be—extended pools, split pools, learning to pool faster, no idea what else—but this? What the fuck was this?

  BUT A WORLD-BREAKER STILL REMAINS THE SUREST KEY TO THE PRISONS.

  A world-breaker . . .

  I’d heard that term before. I couldn’t remember where from.

  Prisons . . .

  In the darkness, I crawled my way to my knees. Val seemed fine, just worn out by whatever journey we’d taken. No cuts or bruises on her either. I tried to shake her awake, but got nothing.

  Nothing you can do to wake her up, Price.

  I steeled myself and stood up, turning to face Meteyos. Whatever he was. I had a thousand questions, but began with, “Are we deep underground?”

  A laughter so strong it almost knocked me back down. The voice wasn’t only loud, but came from far above me as well. I’ve been to the zoo before, I’ve stood next to elephants and giraffes and the like . . . this was twice, maybe three, four times as tall.

  NO, LITTLE MANCER. YOUR EARTH HAS BEEN LEFT BEHIND. THIS IS MY REALM, SUCH THAT IT IS . . .

  “What’s a world-breaker do beside let me come here?”

  YOU ARE NOT YET READY FOR ITS DEEPEST SECRETS. THEY WOULD DESTROY YOU.

  “What did you do to Val?”

  NOTHING. WE ARE OF THE EARTH, SHE IS NOT.

  “Will she be fine?”

  HAVE YOU FINALLY TAKEN MY ADVICE AND MADE HER YOURS? Meteyos seemed to find the idea funny.

  “She’d quibble with that word choice . . . but yeah, I keep trying.”

  SHE IS AS STRONG AS YOU.
A WORTHY QUEEN FOR THE KING OF DIRT.

  “I hate that title.”

  NONETHELESS . . . IT WAS YOURS AT BIRTH.

  “Will she be fine?” I repeated. So many questions. I could have gotten lost in them, fall down the rabbit holes and never escape. I had to stay on point. Put the weird out of my head. Val. Christmas. The Curator. All the rest . . . damn, look at those strings . . . so shiny, I just want to keep pulling them . . .

  SHE WILL WAKE SOON, FIRE IS BELOVED OF EARTH. BE CAREFUL IN THE FUTURE, LITTLE MANCER, SHOULD YOU WALK THIS PATH AGAIN. OTHER ALLIES MIGHT NOT SURVIVE THE TRANSITION.

  “Do you know why I’ve come?”

  I AM ALWAYS LISTENING TO THE PITTER PATTER OF THE LITTLE FEET.

  First time that phrase has ever sent a chill from my head all the way to my toes. “Will you help? Help me find Christmas and this Curator?”

  ONLY CONDITIONALLY.

  “Ain’t that my fucking life?” They managed to keep the Mancy secret from most of humanity, is it any surprise they keep this secret from their own mancers?

  YOU WONDER IF THEY KNOW. IF THEY LIE OR IF THEY ARE FOOLS WHO HAVE FORGOTTEN.

  “Can you read minds now?”

  MINDS: NO. AURAS: YES. ESPECIALLY YOURS, LITTLE MANCER, ESPECIALLLY HERE.

  What’s that mean? But then I understood. I stopped thinking about the darkness, about the cave, and for the first time opened myself to the Mancy, pooling . . .

  I pooled the equivalent of a five-minute-pool in about a second.

  Meteyos must have known; he said: A PRISON, BUT A PRISON OF GODS FOR THOSE WITH THE GIFT.

  Christmas, remember her? Annoying little girl getting closer and closer to the bad man? I focused, but barely. It was hard. With the pool came senses of the Mancy, and with those senses . . . geo-anima was everywhere. Especially in front of me. Geo-anima given form. Geo-anima . . . with . . . four legs? And . . . a tail?

  “Your conditions?”

  IF YOU DO NOT REACH THE GIRL BEFORE THE BROKEN ONE, THEN YOU MUST FORFEIT HER TO HIM.

  “The Broken One, you mean the Curator?”

  YOUR NAMES ARE NOT MY NAMES.

  “Even you’re scared of him?”

  The laughter did knock me from my feet this time. When I managed to crawl to my knees, my cheeks felt hot with anger.

  NO. BUT I CANNOT REACH HIM DIRECTLY. I CAN DO NOTHING ON YOUR PLANE DIRECTLY. ONLY THE LIGHTEST OF TOUCHES PASS UNNOTICED. MESSAGES SCRAWLED ON DIRT, AS YOU SHOULD REMEMBER.

  “Unnoticed by who?”

  IT DOES NOT MATTER. YOU ARE NOT READY.

  “For the Curator? Or to know the truth?” I shouted back, wishing I could knock him off his pedestal.

  BOTH.

  I threw my pool to the right, cast it off like trash. I heard stone cracking but had no other way to know what the effects were. Five-minute pool in a second. I didn’t let my surprise by this stop me this time. In fifteen seconds, I had more anima clinging to me than I’d ever felt before.

  It made me . . . drunk. No pain like Val experienced. Just . . . raw buzz. “Care to try me, fairy?”

  THAT IS YOUR KIND’S TERM FOR ME, LITTLE MANCER.

  “Bullshit! You said—“

  MY MEMORY IS AS LONG AS YOUR SPECIES! The words snapped at me from across the cave, drove me to my butt. At my side, Val gasped, finally waking up.

  I grabbed her, let her know I was there. With this much anima I could feel almost every rut and crack in the cave. I felt her as a lack of geo-anima. A void. But . . . a warm void. Comforting. Like hot chocolate after a winter walk. “I’m here,” I whispered, “we ain’t alone. This has . . . not gone as I expected exactly. But . . . Meteyos seems like he might help us anyway.”

  SHE AWAKENS AND YOUR HEART FILLS WITH JOY, LITTLE MANCER.

  I could feel Val shiver. This is a woman who doesn’t often get afraid, she can face down kidnappers and sciomancers driven mad and Mancy knows what else, but just like what had happened with me, some ancient part of her brain recalled to her that her evolutionary chain included prey as well as predator. “What is that?” she whispered without moving.

  “That’s Meteyos. The . . . fairy.”

  “Fairies are made of anima, they don’t . . . smell . . . like rust . . . or breathe . . . or . . .”

  “Loom over you like they’re one-hundred times bigger than you are?”

  “Yes,” she squeaked. “Yes . . . that.”

  RISE, FIRE QUEEN, I MEAN YOU NO HARM. YOU ARE BELOVED OF MY PROPHET AND ARE THUS BELOVED OF ME.

  Where to begin with all those terms I don’t fucking like . . .

  “Fire Queen?”

  “He calls me the King of Dirt, so . . .”

  “Oh. How presumptive.”

  “It’s him, not me, please remember that.”

  “But you’re enjoying the idea.”

  YOUR FOOTSTEPS BRING LIGHT, IF ONLY YOU WOULD STOP CRAWLING AND RUN.

  “Are we buried in the ground?” Val asked, ignoring him.

  I helped her to her feet, hand on her elbow. My pool was so large that stray geo-anima gathered at her touch, coiling around her before dripping from my fingers to the rock ground. Fucking weird. Now I’m the one who’s gone Super Saiyen. “Alternate plane of reality from what I can tell.”

  She took that in quickly. “Do they know?”

  “It’s a question of debate even with Meteyos.”

  “You always claimed you’d rock my world, but this isn’t what I imagined, King Henry.”

  “Been awhile since we tried, shouldn’t be hard to top our high score.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  WHAT SAY YOU, LITTLE MANCER? WILL YOU ACCEPT MY CONDITION?

  Val answered for us. “What condition?”

  I WILL LEAD YOU TO YOUR SIBILING, FIRE QUEEN. BUT IF THE BROKEN ONE ARRIVES BEFORE YOU, YOU MUST FORFEIT HER TO HIM.

  She shrugged me off, turned to face the voice directly. “Not likely.”

  Meteyos laughed, slow and cold.

  Val suddenly sounded even more terrified than before, “Why can’t I pool?”

  YOU ARE NOT OF THE EARTH. IN MY PRESENCE, FIRE QUEEN, ALL YOU CAN DO IS BOW AND PRAY.

  “It’s okay, Val, I’m pooled up.” Enough to make a second Eiffel Tower in about a minute. “I can protect us both.”

  I WILL NOT BEGRUDGE YOU AN ATTEMPT, LITTLE MANCER. I CAN FEEL YOUR CURIOSITY.

  But I held back my pool. Meteyos didn’t want to harm me. Didn’t want to harm Val either. If anything he was more like Ceinwyn than I cared to admit. He, whatever he was, had plans for me. Prophet? What’s with that shit? He needed me alive. He feared the Curator . . . or the Broken One, would kill me.

  Maybe he wasn’t wrong.

  I don’t know.

  But I do know promises are only words and words are worth less than piss unless backed up by force. Once I was back in the real world, Meteyos wouldn’t have a bit of force to hold over me. “If we agree . . . how will you find her?”

  THE PITTER PATTER OF LITTLE FEET.

  “You know exactly where she is? How she is?” Val asked, hopeful.

  SHE IS UNHARMED. THEY HAVE FED HER AND WATERED HER AND LET HER MAKE WASTE.

  “Thank God.” Val was so relieved I thought she might cry. “Thank the Mancy.”

  “We’re still hours behind,” I pointed out, “after you tell us where she’s at, and we return to our world at whatever random place we pop out, how can we get there before the Curator? This deal is shit if we race all that way and we don’t have a chance to make it first!”

  YOU WILL HAVE A CHANCE, LITTLE MANCER. YOU WILL NOT BE LEAVING THIS REALM UNTIL YOU HAVE ALREADY ARRIVED.

  “What?”

  TIME DOES NOT TRANSFER. SPACE DOES NOT TRANSFER. ALL IS NOT BALANCED AMONG THE REALMS.

  The questions continued to pile up unanswered, all so I could focus on Christmas Ward. Little brat owes me so big . . .

  Val seemed to understand Meteyos’ point. “We can travel here, and then go home at a different point, so w
e get their first?”

  BRIGHT, AS THE STARS I SO MISS.

  There was a grinding of rock and far behind us a doorway of light appeared, not magical or nothing, just daylight creeping through the only opening in our sight.

  “There’s more to this place than just this cave?”

  YES, LITTLE MANCER . . . DO NOT LET THE TRUTH BURY YOU. IT IS A DANGEROUS REALM BUT I HAVE ARRANGED A GUIDE. HE WILL AWAIT YOU AT THE CROSSROADS. REMEMBER MY CONDITION. IF YOU FACE THE BROKEN ONE AND DO NOT FLEE, IT WILL LEAD TO YOUR DEATH.

  I felt Val’s hand wrap around mine. “I think that was goodbye and good luck.”

  She was right. The something enormous moved in the darkness. I could just sense it through geo-anima, as it circled up into a ball like a cat or dog preparing for bed, a great head tucked, tail curled around its feet . . .

  .

  .

  .

  Wings.

  Furled out to stretch them and then tucked close.

  Holy fuckballs .

  There’s no way!

  [CLICK]

  They say the light will set you free, but they never tell you how much of a headache freedom will give you.

  We staggered at the edge of the cave, covering our eyes to block out the suddenness of light, so much light. I blinked once per second, eyes watering. Val let out a low moan.

  Walking like cripples, we’d taken our time to exit the darkness, feet crunching on stone and metal and every piece of ground harder than the last. Now, the ground was immediately soft outside the cave’s mouth.

  Grass.

  I studied it through the tears, a mushy brown grass, but grass nonetheless. “Well, they have a sun, they have grass, how bad can it be?”

  Val pointed at something down the way. “And a path through a valley of rocks.”

  My eyes took more time in coming around than hers. Massive pool or not, it’s the little things that remind you you’re mortal. Pant legs, sunlight, diarrhea. Nothing more humble than diarrhea. The shits. The squats. Diarrhea and constipation . . . please God, just make it stop. Bet the Big Guy gets more prayers from the toilet than he ever gets from church.

  Val was right. On either side of us were these steep cliffs, jagged rocks pushing up like quills on some creature’s back. Down the middle, overrun with brown grass, was a roadway of raised metal, pure steel from the looks of it. It led downwards, far as the eye could see, for miles.